Sorry for any spelling/punctuation mistakes I have probably made and failed to correct.
I don't own, Only Emily.
Thank you so much for the lovely reviews you guys. They mean a lot to me.
If anyone was wondering, the last chapter was a throw back (or a throw forward?) to the Reichenbach episode where Jim is "The Storyteller."
Also, this Sunday, that BFI thing is happening. As you know, I didn't manage to get tickets and am extremely gutted. If anyone else is, and they want to talk to someone in the hopes it might cheer you up, PM me? I, myself, could use some cheering up when that day comes round.
Two days later saw Emily back at work and, even though she had only been in for an hour, she was already fed up.
Mr Roid had popped in moments after her arrival, making her suspicious as to wether he had been on the look out for her before she had got there, and had asked her numerous questions about her day off which had actually been pretty boring.
All she had done was find boxes and a suitcase in order to move everything from her current house to Baker Street. But Mr Roid being himself, offered his assistance that Emily immediately refused, insisting that she could pack and carry things on her own. She had no doubt that his politeness would turn into something else as soon as she was alone with him if she had said yes. It was bad enough that he visited her while she was at work, she had absolutely no desire to see him anywhere outside of St Barts.
She had thankfully had the bright idea of bringing in a couple of packed boxes to work with her to take back to Baker Street when she had finished her shift.
To anyone walking by her office, it probably seemed pretty daft to fill the only available floor space up with boxes. What if there was a fire? Or she very desperately needed to pee? Both were very good questions, but if it meant that Mr Roid wasn't able to set foot in her office, than she would gladly take the extra few seconds escape the confines of the tiny room.
She couldn't wait until her lunch break when she would be seeing John again. He had kindly offered to meet her and grab a bite to eat with her, even if they did end up eating in the staff canteen. But she didn't mind, it was the company that mattered to her.
She had, once again, slipped off her shoes some time ago, and had been sitting cross legged ever since. She would more than likely have trouble standing when the pins and needles set in, but her feet were currently warm, so at that moment in time she wasn't really bothered.
With a push, she sent herself towards the filing cabinets, (even if that wasn't a very long journey, her inner child still loved to use the spinning chair as a vehicle) to retrieve a file she had needed for the past fifteen minutes but had put off doing so by once more colouring her nails in with highlighter.
She was busy searching for it when there came a rather hesitant soft knocking on her door that had been left open by her boss. She looked up to find the woman that had given Sherlock his coffee in the lab the other day, standing in her doorway watching her curiously.
"Umm. Miss Cooper?" She asked with a voice that sounded a bit put off by having to speak to her.
"Yes?" Emily replied.
"I was asked to give you these." She held her arms out to her that were presently loaded with files.
"Shit." Emily mumbled under her breath before pushing herself over as far as she could get to the woman. "Thanks." She carefully leaned over the boxes and relieved the woman of the files and with more than a little effort, nudged herself towards her desk, not caring how unladylike she looked at that moment. (She never really had.) She dropped them unceremoniously onto her desk where they promptly fell from the neat pile they had been in the woman's arms, to a scattered mess that would take Emily a while to reorganise. She really hoped they hadn't been in alphabetic order.
Looking up, she still found the woman watching her. "Umm, It's Molly isn't it?"
"AreyougoingtolivewithSherlock?" The jumble of words suddenly spilled from the woman's mouth.
"I'm sorry. I didn't quite catch that." Emily informed her, turning her chair to look at her properly now; her long hair was tied neatly into a ponytail, showing of her pretty features and her lab coat still covered her clothes.
Emily watched as the woman took a deep breath and started again. "Are you going to live with Sherlock?" It wasn't a conversation starter Emily realised, for those words had been spoken with a hint of worry.
"Yeah." Emily answered carefully.
"He's not interested in you, you know." The woman suddenly spoke up louder as if she had found an unforeseen amount of confidence. "He'll think you're too boring, and you won't be much help in solving his cases."
"I know." Emily said when this woman had stopped for breath.
"Oh." She seemed a little shocked. "Well-"
"I'm not moving into the same flat as Sherlock because I'm interested in him."
"You're not?" Emily noticed the relief that filled the woman's voice.
"No." She shook her head adamantly. "He may be handsome, but he's a bit of an arse hole." A hint of a smile played on the other woman's lips.
"So why are you moving there then?"
"I need to move out. Away from my Mum. It's a very nice flat. And the company seems nice." Emily shrugged to herself. "At least John's does anyway." She added as an after thought.
There was a moment's pause as the woman in the doorway collected her thoughts. "It is Molly." Emily smiled brightly at her and was more than happy when she received a smile back.
"Then I'm Emily." She replied. "Look, apparently I need to get to work," she indicated to the chaos of paper on her desk with a careless wave of her hand, "But I'll be around?" She was a little shy of asking in case Molly turned her down. If she was correct, then Molly had a crush on Sherlock. If that was the case, Molly might not want to make friends with any possible 'competition'. Even if Emily didn't consider herself as competition, it was apparent Molly did.
Molly nodded and pointed down the corridor. "I work in the morgue if you want to come down and- no I mean."
"You work in the morgue so if I ever want to chat come and find you?"
"Yes." Molly nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, that's what I meant. I'll leave you to it then." With a wave and one last smile, Molly disappeared from view and Emily sighed. She hadn't wanted Molly to leave. She wouldn't mind getting to know her better and maybe have some female company at work. But she also didn't want to look at the amount of paper on her desk let alone get to work on it.
She turned her chair back around, and set to work. Picking up one piece of paper with the name 'Jeffrey' on. She didn't get the chance to learn the rest of his name however as what was left of the pile cascaded onto the floor.
"Shit." She mumbled to herself again, as she resignedly got up form her chair again and knelt down on the floor. It didn't take long for the pins and needles to set in.
She was unaware of the time that had elapsed since Molly had visited and dropped off her work. But she was aware of the fact that she had only managed to complete half of it. It didn't help that she had to search for the sticky notes that had been arranged haphazardly within the mountain of paper, that informed her of what she had to do with each file.
So she couldn't exactly help but sigh when she heard the next knock on her door. Mr Roid was back. Again. She couldn't be bothered to uncross her legs this time. She would see what he wanted, then make him shoo.
"Yes Mr Roid?" She mumbled from behind the pen that she was currently holding with her teeth and didn't look up from the current sticky note she was reading. So she didn't notice that there were three figures standing in her doorway.
"Emily. These men say they are here to visit you. But I can see you are extremely busy. They can't stay." His pompous tone angered her and made her snap her head towards the doorway. But her features softened when she spotted John and Sherlock standing beside her boss. John watching her with an amused smile on his face, Sherlock eyeing up Mr Roid, taking in every detail he could.
"Is it lunch time already?" She questioned, spinning her chair to face the door, straightening her legs and pulling her skirt down as she went.
"It most certainly is." John informed her.
"I'm going on my lunch break Mr Roid." She told him as she bent down to retrieve her shoes. But her smile quickly disappeared when she realised Mr Roid was paying no attention to what she was saying. Instead his focus was directed at her legs. She sighed and stood. "Mr Roid." She snapped. His head shot up back to her face and she tried again. "I am going for my lunch break. I won't be long."
"But the paperwork-" He lamely pointed to the mess that still decorated her desk.
"Will still be here when I get back. John give me a hand please?" She held her own out that wasn't holding her shoes and carefully stepped over and around the boxes on her floor grateful when she managed to clasp John's in her own. He waited until she had put her shoes on before letting go.
"Where's your coat?" He asked her now.
"In the cloakroom." She tucked some hair behind her ears and flicked her gaze between the man beside her and Sherlock. The former having a rather suspicious smile on his face as he spoke his next words.
"It's cold outside. Might want to grab it." With one last worried look between the two men, she turned and headed down the corridor towards the ladies cloakroom, wondering if she was about to get fired.
"Who are you?" Mr Roid asked angrily of the two men before him. "I will not have my staff bothered in their work hours."
"Friends of Emily's." John answered. "And I don't think we're the ones that bother her here." He realised that Sherlock had not uttered a word.
"That is no excuse." Mr Roid completely ignored John's last sentence.
"I'm a Doctor." John continued, his voice laced with fake cheerfulness. "Used to be in the Army too." There was a moments pause as Emily's boss took in his words.
"Are you threatening me?"
"Do you know? I think I am." That fake smile threatened to break John's face.
"Now listen here. I will not have my girls-"
"They are not 'your girls'" Sherlock finally spoke up, essentially spitting the words at him. "If they were your girls I doubt they would stick around very long. Hyperhidrosis can't be very pleasant to be around. And I highly doubt they would not appreciate the fact that you watch too much internet porn. I suspect if you had more money, they would be flocking towards you, but given the state of that suit you're wearing, I don't think anyone will be tripping over themselves to get to you first. Now I really think you should put a comb through your hair, or what's left of it, and check that you don't have nits, the amount of times you've scratched your head in the past few minutes suggests some sort of infestation in there. I also think your girls would greatly appreciate if you brushed your teeth once in a while." Sherlock finally stopped for breath and looked on at Mr Roid with wide eyes, already anticipating the mans next words.
"Piss off." Sherlock gently smirked as Emily stopped between him and John, her coat slung over one arm.
"I don't really think you should talk to the visitors like that Mr Roid. It gives off a rather bad impression." She turned her gaze to her two friends now. "I just need to pop to the loo, John would you mind holding this for a minute? Thanks." With that, she handed her coat to John, who folded it over his arm, and walked quickly in the general direction of the ladies loos.
Mr Roid, lost for words apparently, huffed indignantly, and marched away from the pair. Leaving them to watch as he scratched his head before turning vanishing round a corner.
"You had more to say." John said, not looking at Sherlock, but instead taking in just how small Emily's office was and the boxes on the floor.
"Obviously." Sherlock spun and headed towards the toilets to wait for Emily.
"So why not say all of it then?" John asked, managing to keep up with the consulting detective.
"I doubt he will keep away for very long. Those sort usually don't. Just saving some for the next time." He finished his sentence in the nick of time. Emily had just exited the loos and walked the short distance from the door over to them.
"I've not lost my job have I?" She asked worriedly as John handed her back her coat. "Thank you." She mumbled to him as she put it on.
"No." Sherlock answered and started walking to the exit. Emily's shoulders visibly relaxed. "But I would advise you to keep your hair tied up at all times when you're here."
"What?" John chuckled as Emily took his arm. "What's he talking about?"
"Don't worry about it." He murmured to her, his mysterious smile back in place.
One last thing: THE OFFICIAL SHERLOCK RELEASE TRAILER!
.GOD!
Believe In Sherlock.
FB